Nine on the Line
by gigundoly
Summary: His name was not Artie Abrams.
1. My Name is Kevin McHale

Author's Note: This is inspired by something I once read in another fandom. Here's a start. Probably going to be a two or three-shot. :)

* * *

"Wheels?" Amber Riley hovered over me, looking concerned. Beside her, Mark Salling smirked and crossed his arms, much in the way he would if he were playing the character of Noah Puckerman. "You okay? You hit the wall again."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" added Mark, flipping me the bird.

"Hilarious, Mark," I mumbled, rubbing my head. How _did _I hit the wall anyway? I couldn't even remember coming to the set that day. Apparently, we were about to shoot an episode. I was even in costume as Artie – suspenders, gloves, button-up shirt, and of course, his wheelchair.

"Who's Mark?" asked Mark, deadpan.

"Artie, dude?" Cory lumbered over, looking freakishly tall from where I was sitting. "You look confused. Did you hit your head just now?"

"Why are you calling me – oh!" It dawned on me that we must be rehearsing. Mark, Amber, and Cory were trying to continue as though I hadn't just screwed everything up. But I couldn't go on. I didn't know what I was supposed to say next. I wasn't even sure what episode we were doing. "Sorry… I'm completely lost. Line, please?"

"Line?" Jenna joined us. "Artie, this is glee club, not theatre." She grinned, as though I were playing some kind of clever joke. "Very funny. Maybe you should audition! I think you could be an actor." She gave me an adoring smile, the kind of smile that she would give me when we were in character as Tina and Artie.

"Stop calling me Artie." I was getting weirded-out now. "You're worse than the fans. Nobody ever calls me Kevin anymore. Seriously, we just have to start the scene all over. I screwed it up, I know. Could we just take five?" I had to get out of there. "Just let me just go to the dressing room and get my script…"

I meant to stand up and head to the dressing room, but it didn't go as planned. Instead, I lunged forward in my wheelchair and would have fallen out completely if Cory hadn't reacted so quickly. My legs refused to move. It was like my feet were glued to the footrests of my chair. Even stranger was the fact that they seemed numb.

Oh.

"I-I-I'm… paralyzed!" I screeched.

"You forgot about being paralyzed?" Cory settled me back in the chair as I reeled from my sudden discovery. The rest of the cast had gathered around me at some point, all of them looking seriously disturbed. Cory exchanged a troubled glance with Matthew Morrison.

"Should we take you to the nurse, Artie?" Without waiting, Matt headed over to his desk, which was full of scripts and miniature candy bars. But much to my surprise, he opened the drawer to reveal actual nurse passes. It was then that I realized the prop guys weren't just working overtime.

I was Artie Abrams. And As Matt handed me the nurse pass, I realized that this was _not _Matthew Morrison the actor. This was Will Schuester, the teacher. Somehow – I had no idea how – Glee was real. Glee was real, and I was Artie Abrams the Wheelchair Nerd.

"We still don't have a nurse," said Naya. "Principal Figgins won't hire one. Ms. Sylvester got the Cheerios a private nurse, but she probably wouldn't let her see Artie."

"Well… then maybe Ms. Pillsbury could help us figure out why Artie -?"

"- Kevin."

If not for the terrifying fact that I couldn't move my legs, I wouldn't have believed any of it. Besides, Glee wasn't exactly popular for being _realistic._ Only in the Glee Universe, for instance, would seeing the school guidance counselor be an acceptable substitute for seeing the school nurse. And in spite of the overwhelming evidence that I was truly now _in_ the Glee Universe, I had to plead my case anyway.

"Please," I said. "Just listen to me. I can't even figure out how I got here in the first place. I am not Artie Abrams. And I'm not paralyzed either. Well, I mean…" I stared at my legs, willing them to move. Nothing happened. "… I mean, I wasn't paralyzed before. My name is Kevin McHale."

"The basketball player?" asked Heather, using that hilarious, faraway voice that she does for Brittany. "Funny. You don't look tall enough."

"No!" I closed my eyes, praying that I could wake up. My newest theory was that this was a nightmare. It was common to have nightmares about being stuck in the body of your TV personality, right? Maybe lots of actors suffered from these kind of hallucinations. "Not the basketball player. Kevin McHale, originally from the boy band NLT. But now I'm an actor. I play Artie on a Glee. It's… a show on FOX."

I looked around and realized Matt was on his phone. He was using the phone on the wall that, to my knowledge, was just a new prop that we needed for one of the episodes in the back nine. " … thinks he's a basketball player or an actor named Kevin McHale and doesn't know how he ended up in a wheelchair. Okay. Yeah. We'll be right there."

"Artie," said Matthew, hanging up. "Or Kevin, whoever you are. Ms. Pillsbury needs to see you. Tina, can you take Artie to Ms. Pillsbury's office, please?"

Jenna – or Tina, I wasn't certain any more – nodded and steered me out of the room. As she pushed me down the hall, I tried to think of something to say to her, something that would remind her that we were really Jenna and Kevin, good friends who happened to be on a hit show together. Maybe I could bring up something we'd talked about on Twitter?

She spoke up before I did. "It isn't like you to do something for attention, Artie." I twisted around to look up at her and she gave me a sympathetic smile. "I guess you really _did_ hit your head. I hope you figure it out soon and stop giving everyone new names. Besides, Mercedes looks nothing like an Amber. All the Ambers I know are skinny, blond, and obnoxious."

"I hope so, too, Jen- Tee… Tina."

"I always liked the name Jen," she mused, seeming to accept my "head injury" without further questions. "Nice choice, Artie. I never liked my real name anyway."

I closed my eyes once again as Jenna-Tina pushed me. Maybe… maybe I could just go back to sleep and wake up again. I couldn't wait to tell everyone about this dream. Perhaps this was my subconscious getting impatient while we waited to film the back nine. Either way, I was just ready for it to be over.


	2. Acting 101

Author's Note: Thank you, thank you for the nine reviews I've received thus far! (Nine seemed like a perfect number for my story.) I was blown away by how quickly they came pouring in. I was particularly honored to have a review from Artemis Rayne, my absolute _favorite_ author in this fandom. And to those who asked me for Tina/Artie (technically, Tina/Kevin - Tevin?)... request granted. It was because of those requests that this story actually went in a slightly different direction that originally intended. Please continue to give me suggestions. I can't promise I'll use them, but it never hurts to ask. :D

Inspiration Credit: I cannot credit the story from the other fandom by name because I've long since forgotten the title, but it was a Space Cases story with a similar premise. (And this story makes mine look pretty weak; it was awesome.) I, too, would think that there would be more stories like it out there. Strangely, I haven't ever come across any others.

And now, the second installment...

* * *

"Ms. Pillsbury, I've got Artie here to see you," said Jenna-Tina, still steering me by the handles. I reluctantly opened my eyes to look around Ms. Pillsbury's office. There were more props than I remembered seeing on the show, probably because this was an actual office, not a television set. _No, you're dreaming. It is a television set._

"Come on in," said Ms. Pillsbury, holding a book in front of her face. I skimmed the title: "Divorce for Dummies." Wow, the prop guys were getting clever. I hoped the rest of the season contained lots of scenes for Will and Emma, almost as much as I hoped for more scenes between Tina and Artie.

Ms. Pillsbury dropped her book to reveal that she was _not, _in fact, Emma Pillsbury. Nor was she Jayma Mays. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Jenna-Tina looked equally stunned to see Rachel (Lea?) sitting in her place. She smiled nonchalantly at us, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Hello, Kevin," she said, calmly. "Nice of you to join us."

As I struggled to process the fact that Lea-Rachel had just called me Kevin, not Artie, it dawned on me that she hadn't been in the choir room earlier when I'd awoken to find myself trapped in Artie's body. Her smile widened, an almost eerie smile at that, as she eyed me curiously.

"I wonder why it was you that came…" she trailed off. "Actually, I do have a few theories about that. But no matter, no matter. I arranged for Ms. Pillsbury to step out so that I might borrow her office. I think – no offence to our dear counselor, of course – but I think I might be better suited to help explain your little situation, Kevin."

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with New Directions!" Jenna-Tina stepped around my chair to lean over the desk. I'd never seen her look so menacing. (Note to self: Suggest a Tina/Rachel chick fight to the writers. Hot.) She was practically nose to nose with Rachel. "Isn't that what you said when you stormed out yesterday?"

"No," said Lea-Rachel, still calm. "I said there was no point in doing anything until _April. _We're sort of stagnating until then. Isn't that right, Kevin?" Jenna-Tina was about to say something, but Lea-Rachel stopped her. "I know what you're going to say, and you're wrong. _That_ isn't your precious Artie Abrams sitting there. That's Kevin McHale, the actor who plays him on the television show, Glee."

"And Glee's on hiatus until April," I said, weakly, for Tina looked torn between crying and calling us both crazy. I looked away from her, hating to see her so pained, and turned back to the other girl. "Lea, what happened? You… you _are_ Lea, aren't you?"

"Oh, no," she said, smiling devilishly. "I'm Rachel Berry. Do you even pay attention? What kind of actor are you if you don't pay attention to the details about the other characters! That's very important, you know. Acting 101."

I stared blankly. "Sorry, I don't follow."

She exhaled loudly. "'I've never told you guys this before, but I'm a little psychic. I can't read minds or anything yet, but I do have a sixth sense.'" She gave me a meaningful look. "Ring a bell?"

"But, but…" I sputtered, shaking my head in disbelief. "Rachel just… just said that. It was just for comedic effect. She's not really psychic. That would be im-"

"Impossible?" Rachel finished, her eyes widening intently. "Look around, Kevin! You once thought this was a mere television show and now here you sit, in a parallel universe as real as the one you come from. Is anything impossible anymore?"

Well, she had me there. So Rachel was psychic, and Glee was real. I wasn't sure I was dreaming anymore. I wasn't sure I was this creative. Besides, my poor legs felt awfully numb for this to be a dream. But what could I do now?

"Why am I here?" I wondered aloud. "I mean, just the other day, I was hanging out in Texas with Naya and Mark…" I glanced at Tina, who had taken a seat in the empty chair next to me. She was staring out the window, open-mouthed, and I knew this had to be hard for her to swallow, too. "You… you know them as Santana and Puck," I said, gently. "You okay?"

"What interests me is the fact that it was you who came," Rachel interrupted, her eyes still sparkling with intrigue. "You, out of a whole cast of actors who could have shown up had they so desired. And then I realized that it does make the most sense for you to come. You have the strongest connection to the show. Think about it, Kevin… as the only member of the principle cast with a background in ensemble performance – namely, your boy band – your life closely mirrors that of Artie Abrams. Minus the wheelchair, of course."

"Yeah, about that," I complained. "I'd like to get out of this thing as soon as possible. So how precisely, oh psychic one, do we go about getting me back to reality?" Beside me, Tina tore her eyes away from the window to give me a harsh look. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "But if I didn't believe it before, I do now. You don't sound anything like our Artie right now, Kevin McHale." She said my name like it was a bad word.

By "our Artie," I could be fairly sure she meant "my Artie." And probably, my complaints about having been in his wheelchair for a mere ten minutes were making her a teensy bit defensive. I was going to have to bite my tongue next time. Tina really liked Artie; I knew that for certain.

"It's important that the three of us keep this quiet," said Rachel, our voice of reason. (Now that was scary.) She studied Tina and I seriously. "Tina, nothing I've said needs to worry you. Artie will be back. And Kevin, you will go back to your world. I do know that for a fact. I'm still working on the mind-reading thing, though."

"Psychics, parallel universes," muttered Tina. "It's all a bit much for me. I… I'll see you guys later. Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone about this. I'd hate to look like the crazy one." She stood awkwardly and shuffled out the door, slumping slightly as she went.

"What a drama queen," Rachel commented, derisively. She turned back to me. "Why are you just sitting there, looking at me like that? I told you what you need to know. Now go and follow her. She might be a little upset, you know. She just found out that the boy she might possibly be in love with has gone missing."

"Y-yes ma'am," I stammered, once again attempting to stand up before I realized that it wasn't an option anymore. I grabbed my wheels and backed out of the room, having learned to maneuver the chair pretty well. I used all my strength to chase after Tina. I found her by her locker, opening and shutting it repeatedly.

"Tee?" I said, timidly.

She slammed the locker and spun around, her eyes brimming with tears. I recoiled slightly, wheeling myself back a few paces. "Don't call me that!" she sputtered. "Only he calls me that. And now I don't even know where he is. Do… do you know where he is?"

"No, although…" I winced slightly. "If I'm here in your world, is it possible that he's in mine? I guess I should've asked Rachel about that. But hey, on the bright side, Tina, that could mean he gets to enjoy a few days of walking around, right?"

"Artie hardly ever complains about that, you know," she said, bitterly. Ah, so I was right. I did annoy her with my grumbling over the chair. "I don't know why you're here, but I wish you'd leave so he could come back." She paused. "Don't take that personally, I guess."

I grinned suddenly, thinking of one of my favorite Artie lines to Rachel. _"You're irritating most of the time, but don't take that personally." _He was such a hilarious character; I really was lucky to have the part. Tina watched me grinning like I had completely lost my mind. She slumped against her locker, staring at me until my grin faded again.

"Maybe this is the fates providing me a chance to really get to know Artie's character," I suggested, feeling inspired at the thought. "If I could do a better job portraying a handicapped character, then maybe people would get off my back about the whole able-bodied casting choice issue."

"Character with a disability," Tina corrected, meticulously, still eyeing me with contempt.

"See? I suck at this," I said, brightly. "But you can help me, Jenna! I mean… Tina. Please help me. I can't do this without you."

"Okay Artie-I-mean-Kevin." She finally smiled, offering me a handshake. I took it and shook agreeably. "I just hope – for your sake and Artie's – that the psychic isn't wrong about this."


	3. We Can Work It Out

Author's Note: Going to be longer than a two-or-three shot. This is not the last chapter! :)

* * *

When school let out, I wasn't entirely sure what to do with myself. If I had thought fooling the rest of the kids in glee club was difficult, this would be nothing compared to trying to fool Artie's family. I didn't actually know the first thing about them. To my knowledge, the back nine episodes had yet to feature Artie's family. The writers were pretty tight-lipped about any details. Jenna hadn't even known that Tina was going to be faking the stutter in the beginning. I supposed there was good reason for this. A couple times, my fellow cast members had been a bit too candid in interviews and revealed secrets by accident. The worst was the time Mark leaked previews of Wheels that featured Puck and Quinn, a huge mistake. The videos were quickly yanked from the internet, but I'm not sure that Mark has completely recovered from that one.

Anyway, Tina suggested going to dinner together to talk. She wanted to know about my world and I was dying to know more about hers. I knew that whatever she told me would have to stay completely hush-hush when I got home again. I didn't want the writers on my case. Not to mention, they would wonder how I knew about things that hadn't even been written yet.

(How _did _that work anyway?)

The restaurant looked kind of familiar. As I studied the pea-green table cloths, it hit me that this was the nameless restaurant where Finn worked under the pretense of being in a wheelchair. I wondered what Artie thought about that, since Finn was faking a disability as Tina had done. Would Artie be understanding because he knew Finn had good intentions? And then I realized something else…

"Tina," I asked, getting more and more accustomed to saying this name, even though I was sometimes catching myself right before calling her 'Jenna.' She looked up from her menu. "Does Finn still work here?"

Tina shook his head. "He quit when he found out Quinn wasn't having his baby," she explained. I nodded, wondering if the show was going to include this little detail. It seemed rather insignificant and probably wouldn't lead in to any big musical numbers. Perhaps not.

"Seems rather cruel, doesn't it?" I felt like I had to say it. "The things the writers put us through. Quinn being pregnant, Puck and Finn fighting, all the slushies thrown in our faces, Artie in a wheelchair, you-"

She held up her hand. "Please," she said, simply. "I know it's a show in your world, but it's my life. My _real _life. This just feels like you're patronizing us."

"I'm sorry," I said, quickly. "That wasn't my intention."

She nodded, and then chewed her lip thoughtfully. "But, you know, every good show has its conflict. Otherwise there wouldn't be anything to talk about. So I suppose all the drama is necessary, don't you?"

I opened my mouth to say something to that, but was interrupted by our waiter brining our drinks. Our waiter couldn't have been more than four-and-a-half feet tall. I recalled what Rachel had said about her two gay dads threatening to sue the establishment if they didn't start hiring employees with disabilities.

After Tina and I had ordered, we were quiet for a few minutes, neither of us knowing what to say to a complete stranger. I stared at the residents of Lima, wondering if every single one of these "extras" was exclusively a part of the parallel Glee universe. There were real conversations going on around us. Life was happening here just as it did at home. I was so distracted that I forgot all about Tina for a little while. When I looked back at her, I could see that she was on the verge of tears again. The dark makeup on her eyes was still smudged from earlier.

"I hate seeing Jenna cry," I said, reaching across the table to wipe a smudge from under her left eye. When I did so, she recoiled slightly. I'd done it again. I couldn't seem to keep from looking at her and seeing my friend Jenna. My mind had remembered that she was really Tina, but my heart had forgotten.

"Do you- ?" She sniffled, paused, and then started again. "Do you have any feelings for this girl, Jenna, the one who plays me on… "It seemed hard for her to say it, hard for her to believe it. "… On the show."

"We aren't like you and Artie," I said, causing her to blush. "Sorry. You knew I'd know all about that, right? But I know you guys still have issues to work out so I won't say anything else. If it helps, I'm pretty sure the two of you will work it out."

Tina smiled, softly. _"Try to see it my way. Do I have to keep on talking 'til I can't go on?"_

I laughed. _"While you see it your way, run the risk of knowing that our love may soon be gone." _We were breaking out into song. Suddenly, I could hear the instrumental backing track fading in and filling the room. I looked up to see the restaurant manager turning on the jukebox. My dream theory returned momentarily.

___We can work it out.  
We can work it out._

I looked up to see that Mike, Brittany, Santana, and Matt were suddenly there, too, dancing around our table and singing along with us.

_Think of what you're saying.  
You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right.  
Think of what I'm saying.  
We can work it out and get it straight, or say good night._

_We can work it out.  
We can work it out._

"Ooh, a new number, I like this one!" said Brittany, clapping eagerly. "Is that Justin Timberlake?"

"Not even close, Brittany," Tina scoffed, exchanging a look with me. I, too, had to admit that it was rather cringe-worthy for Brittany not to recognize the Beatles. Heather would've known right away.

"See you around," said Mike, abruptly, giving us a wave as he left with the rest.

They had obviously just appeared in order to do the song with us. There was no other reason why they should be here. In Lima, Ohio, I supposed that it was perfectly normal to break out into song in the middle of a conversation and have your friends drop by to sing back-up. Before they were out of sight, Mike turned over his shoulder and smiled at Tina. I wondered if Artie would be getting any competition from "the other Asian" in upcoming episodes. Now _that_ would be an interesting development once Tina and Artie finally did, er, work it out.

"That song would be great for a future episode," I commented. "We've already been recording new music, but I'll have to mention this one. Don't know if it could top _Don't Stop Believing _or _Proud Mary_, but I think it would be a hit."

Tina leaned forward, looking curious about something. She spoke nearly in a whisper, probably fearful that she would be overheard while talking about her life as though it were a work of fiction. "Do you have… influence over the writers?" she wanted to know. "Do you have a say in what happens? And I'm not just talking about the songs."

It felt like we were headed into dangerous territory. I debated what to say for a moment, taking a sip of my soda to buy more time. I wasn't sure if I should try to do Tina any favors by taking her requests to the show's writers. It might do more harm that good. Like the song said, _you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. _I resisted the urge to sing this, feeling strangely compelled to do so.

"If it helps," I said, again. "I'm _positive _that the two of you will work it out. And the producers would kill me if I ever said that to a reporter. Does that help, Tina? And please, let's not start singing again."

She laughed lightly. "You don't have to tell me anything else, K-Kevin." I knew that she stuttered because it was strange to call me by that name. "As much as I want to know what will happen between Artie and I, it would be terrible to ruin the surprise."

I nodded, and then cracked an awful joke. "Spoiler alert!"

She laughed anyway.

"I would _love_ for you and Jenna to work out,"she said, leaning forward in earnest. "Even though I don't know either of you, I'm starting to like the idea of the two of you as a couple. I think it could help Artie and I have a better relationship. Of course, who know if it works that way?"

"We… have good on-screen chemistry," I frowned slightly, trying to think of how to put it into words. Me and Jenna? Interesting idea, but there were a few problems there. "I'm not really sure if we would work out in real life. She's two years older than I am. I think it might be weird for her to date someone younger than she is."

Tina looked confused, then enlightened. "Wait a minute, of course," she said, shaking her head from side to side, abashed by what had obviously just dawned on her. "Actors who play kids in high school are almost always a bit older, right? How old… how old are you?"

"Twenty-one," I answered. "And Jenna is twenty-three." Tina appeared quite pale, probably wondering if she looked twenty-three. I hurried to reassure her. "We got the parts because we looked young enough. And, hey, you think that's shocking? Cory, I mean… Finn… no, I guess I really mean Cory… he's twenty-seven."

"_That _I could believe," said Tina, with a laugh. There was another silence as this conversation topic wound down, neither of us knowing what to say next. Then Tina got that sad look in her eyes again, and I knew she was wondering about Artie. I reached out to pat her closest hand, which was idly playing with her fork.

"Hey, I'm sure that Artie's okay," I said, quietly, still trying not to be overheard. "If he gets to be me then he's probably… "I trailed off, struggling to remember the last thing I was doing before I was mysteriously transported to Lima, Ohio. And that was when panic set in. "He's… oh, no, no, NO! Why am I missing this?"

"What? What?" Tina dropped her fork, alarmed. "What is it you're missing?"

"The Peoples' Choice Awards," I moaned. "Wednesday – that's today, isn't it?" I felt ill as Jenna nodded, still staring blankly as though she hadn't fully grasped what this would mean. "So they're tonight," I confirmed. "Glee's nominated. We were going."

"So Artie might be going to an award show?" Tina replied, brightening at this idea. "Cool! I mean, if that's really what's happening, he'll be having the time of his life. Once he gets over the initial shock of being able to walk and being stuck in a parallel universe, that is. I… wow, I _wish_ I could be there, too. Walk down the red carpet with him. That is _so cool._"

It _was_ cool. I was sad to be missing out on the award show, but the thought of Artie going in my place made me feel better. Artie deserved the award more than I did, more than any of us. And I found myself wishing I could be more like the resilient kid in the wheelchair who never stopped believing in glee club.


	4. Party with Puckerman

Author's Note: The updates have been coming quickly because I had a sick day! Hopefully I can keep up the pace. I don't know how many installments it will take to wrap this all up in a neat little box. Time will tell, but I do intend to finish. Thanks to those who've inspired me along the way, my reviewers!

Also, you already know what this chapter is about. The previous one had a painfully _obvious_ lead in, didn't it? :-) Changed my rating to T because of Puck.

* * *

_Artie_

The light flooded into the room, waking me abruptly. For a moment, I struggled to remember what day it was. I sometimes slept in like this on Saturdays, but it wasn't Saturday, was it? Not the last time I checked. It was Wednesday, wasn't it? I'd been practicing a new number with the club in my sleep. Not really an unusual dream or an interesting dream, but quite a vivid one. _Oh, no, I overslept!_

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!"

I lifted my head off the pillow and opened my eyes to find something much worse than sleeping in on a school day. Noah Puckerman was in the room with me. He was the one who had opened the curtains to let the light flood in. To complicate the matter further, I wasn't even in my own bedroom. Instead, it appeared that we were in a hotel room.

"We can't sleep all day, you know," said Noah, while I remained frozen in fear. "I forget that you're so young sometimes, dude. Was that the first time you've ever stayed out all night partying?"

_Partying, _I struggled to process the word. In what universe would I _ever _party alongside Noah Puckerman? The idea was outrageous and laughable, to say the least. "How did I get here?" I wondered out loud. "Have I been... drugged?!" I didn't even think Puck could stoop so low, particularly now, after we'd spent so much time in glee club together. (Of course, who could forget the bake sale? But that was different...)

Puck clutched his heart. "I'm hurt, Kev," he said. "Cuts me deep."

I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that he wasn't going to explain. _Kev? _What kind of nickname was that? What happened to Wheels? Less troublesome than the new nickname was the fact that as I looked around the room, there was no sign of my wheelchair. I clutched my covers, realizing my worst fear had come true.

"Puck..." I said, slowly, raising myself up in bed. "Where... is... my... wheelchair?" I begged him with my eyes. Surely we weren't reverting to my port-a-potty days. Even then, he'd never stooped low enough to actually rob me of the chair. He'd always left it near the flag pole when I'd been hoisted up there for a Patriotic Wedgie or beside the dumpster when I'd been tossed in. Even when we'd been mortal enemies, there had been a line that was never crossed. Until now.

Puck furrowed his brown, and then laughed. "Oh, I get it!" he exclaimed. "You're in character because today's our big day, right? Great idea. And it would be totally in character of Puck to steal Artie's wheelchair."

I was too focused on getting my chair back to really hear what he was saying. There was a phone nearby. I could always reach for the phone and call someone, but as soon as I did, I was sure Puck would yank it out of my hands and unplug it. Feeling helpless - oh, how I hated that - I decided I would have to do more begging and appeal to the sensitive nature that I _knew _was really there under that hard exterior.

"Please," I begged. "Just give me my chair back and let me go and if there's anything I can do for you in return, name it. Name your price, Puck, please. This is me begging you. Please let me leave."

"Hm," Puck smirked. "Well, if I were Kurt, I'd ask you for sexual favors. But, let's see, I'm Puck so that won't do..."

I stared at him. "Dude, what the _hell _are you talking about?" Had he gone mad?

The smirk wavered slightly. "Okay, Kevin, game over," he said. "Seriously, it's already past noon. We've got to grab lunch with the girls. Then there's a whole lot of press before the red carpet. And when we get to the red carpet - more press. Before you know it, we'll be on stage. Accepting our award, with any luck. Now get up and get dressed. Here, I'll get you started."

Puck leaned over to rummage around in a suitcase, turning his back on me, which made me even more furious than before.

"Why are you calling me, Kevin?" I balled my hands into fists, unable to take it any longer. "And what do you mean, get up? _I _can't get up. I - "

I stopped short because Puck had just thrown a pair of jeans at me. They hit my legs, which normally would have escaped my attention completely. Except for the fact that today, for the first time in eight years, I felt it when an object hit my legs. Curiously, I reached down and touched my thigh over the covers. _Sensation. Feeling._ The sight of my hand touching my leg actually had a _feeling_ to go along with it. I ripped the covers off to examine my legs, forgetting about modesty and not even caring that I was showing my boxers to Puck. _Since when do I wear boxers? _I couldn't worry about my choice of underwear because all I could think about was feeling my legs.

_Feeling my legs._

I continued to feel around with my hands, touching every inch of my lower body. I knew what I had to try next. I commanded my foot to move and watched in sheer disbelief as my foot obeyed the command my brain had given. Other foot, same result. My knees bent when I ordered them to. I lifted my entire right left, followed by the left. Everything felt as though I'd never been injured. Was I really on drugs? My legs sure _looked _like they were moving. I knew what I had to try next. I sat up and swung my body around easily. My legs dangled off the side of the bed, feet mere inches from the floor. If I fell on my face, this was going to be a huge let down. But something told me I was really going to do it.

_I stood up._

"A miracle," I whispered, amazed. I was still completely freaked out and confused beyond all reason, but at the same time, amazed to be standing on my own legs with no support at all. With entirely no effort, I stood. And then I jumped. Up and down, up and down! I walked in a circle! Did jumping jacks! The grin growing wider and wider across my face, I launched myself into the sprinkler, forgetting entirely about Puck until I heard him laughing hysterically at me. _Let him laugh, _I thought, wildly overjoyed. _I can outrun him now. I was always quick!_

"Oh, my God!" He was wiping tears out of his eyes from laughing so hard. "What are you going to do, Kevin, suggest an episode about Artie miraculously walking again? I don't think the disabled community would take too kindly to that, do you? But I'd say you deserve an academy award for those acting skills. Listen, I'm gonna go see what the girls are up to. I'll see you in the lobby, okay? And hurry up. You've got like twenty minutes."

_Twenty minutes until what? _I wondered, ceasing my sprinkler. And there was that name again - Kevin. Puck kept calling me Kevin. At least three times, now that I thought about it. I walked over to the open suitcase, carrying the jeans that he'd thrown me in my other hand. This _wasn't _my suitcase and these _weren't _my clothes. The jeans were my size, though. Same with the shirts. I was pretty sure, in that case, that the suitcase must belong to me and not Puck. I just couldn't recall packing it or even owning a suitcase that looked like this one. I looked around the rest of the room, trying to find some clue as to how I'd gotten there. On a small table were food wrappers and empty soda cans. It looked like he and I had been pigging out together. _Weird. Like friends or something. _But just then, something else on the table caught my eye.

There sat an issue of Us Weekly, opened to a page that featured a very puzzling photo. Rachel, Kurt, Finn, Tina, Mercedes, and I were peeking out of a blue dumpster, all posing with huge smiles like we were actually happy to be there. On one side of the dumpster stood Ms. Pillsbury, Mrs. Schuester, and Mr. Schuester. _In what universe would Mrs. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury ever stand side-by-side and smile like that? _On the other side of the dumpster stood Puck, Quinn, and Ms. Sylvester. My poor wheelchair was turned over in front of the dumpster, disrespected in a way that pained me to see. But it was the caption under the picture that interested me the most: _Cast of the Year, _it read._ (From left, Jayma Mays, Jessalyn Gilsig, Matthew Morrison, Cory Monteith, Kevin McHale, Chris Colfer, Amber Riley, Lea Michele, Jenna Ushkowitz, Mark Salling, Dianna Agron and Jane Lynch.)_

I counted until my finger landed on myself. According to this picture, the name "Kevin McHale" matched up with me. I continued until I got to Tina, lining up the name "Jenna Ushkowitz" with her face. _Kevin. _The sound of Puck saying this name resonated in my mind. Only, according to this photo, he wasn't Puck at all. He was Mark Salling. And we were the "Cast of the Year."

_Cast. Character. Acting._

Add all of this to the fact that I could walk and we had a real work of science fiction on our hands. I paced furiously around the room, no longer even able to revel in the fact that I was actually _pacing_, as opposed to raming my wheelchair into the wall. And then came a knock at the door. I quickly yanked on the jeans in my hand and yelled, "Coming!"

I peered through the peep hole, stunned to see Rachel Berry waiting in the hall. Rachel Berry or (magazine check)... Lea Michele? I always thought Rachel was a little scary, but the idea that she was really someone else? Equally terrifying. I considered not opening the door and waiting for her to go away.

"Artie?" She used my name. I reconsidered leaving her in the hall. "Artie, are you in there? Artie, I know you're mixed up right now. Mark just came down and - Puck, I mean... Puck. Puck just came downstairs and said you were acting strangely. Look, I know what's going on and if you'll let me inside, I can explain everything."

Reluctantly, I opened the door. "Rachel-if-that-even-is-your-name," I said, flatly. "Look at me. I'm _standing _in front of you. And don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to be standing here and everything, but I want to know what's going on. How did I wind up in a hotel room with Noah Puckerman and why does he think my name is Kevin?"

She sighed. "Actually, I think you'd better sit down for this one, Artie. May I come in?"

I stepped aside. "Please," I said, watching her closely as I backed towards the bed and sat. She sat opposite me on the other unmade bed which must've been where Puck had slept. For a moment, neither of us spoke. She looked like she was trying to decide how to break bad news to me. She looked down at the magazine in my hand and studied the picture.

"I guess you're probably curious about that," she began, hesitantly.

"Curious about a picture in a magazine?" I echoed. "A little. Maybe a bit _more_ curious about being miraculously healed from paralysis. I have to say, that one's in the forefront of my mind." My voice dripped with sarcasm and Rachel dropped her gaze to her lap. "But yeah, you could say I'm a bit curious about this picture that I don't remember posing for and all these names that I don't -"

"My name isn't Rachel," she interrupted. I closed my mouth and listened. "I'm Lea Michele. I'm... I'm an actress. I play Rachel on a hit television show called Glee. It's... it's about a teacher who starts a glee club with a bunch of high school misfits. It's been a huge success. So successful, in fact, that we've just been nominated for a People's Choice Award. Oh, and four Golden Globes, too! We're gloing to the People's Choice Awards this evening, actually. Everybody's really excited. Is... is any of this making sense?"

"I would be lying if I said it was," I admitted. As ridiculous and unbelievable as it sounded, however, it also sounded amazing. If what Rachel-or-Lea said was true, then I wasn't really Artie Abrams the Wheelchair Kid. Rather, I was the famous actor, Kevin McHale. And my show was up for five awards. And I could _walk. _If this was a dream, then I never wanted to wake up. I looked down at the picture in the magazine again. My fingers brushed over Tina's face. In this version of the universe, she was called Jenna Ushkowitz. Did Kevin have a chance with Jenna? Was Jenna anything like Tina? I was terribly eager to find out.

I hopped up suddenly, and Lea-Rachel looked slightly taken aback by the sudden change in my demeanor. "You know what though?" I said, gleefully. "I would be lying if I said this wasn't the best thing that ever happened to me. Because I think it is! So, what was on the agenda for today? Lunch, press, red carpet, and then the award show with lots of other famous people? I'm there. I'm _so _there."


	5. It's Not Delivery, It's DiGiorno

Author's Note: I plagiarized YouTube for a portion of this chapter. Enjoy! (And let me know what you think should be next...)

**Disclaimer: I am not associated with the actresses or actors mentioned in this story. Their names and images are used for the sole purpose of creating a "parallel universe." It is not my intention to disrespect the cast in any way. All speculations made are purely fiction and are in no way meant to serve as actual representations of the actors/actresses themselves.**

* * *

After Lea-Rachel and I talked, we joined the others in the lobby. They'd already been spotted by a few female fans that happened to be staying at the hotel. The entire group, including myself, got busy giving out our autographs and taking pictures with the fans. I was a bit uncertain about how Kevin McHale's signature was _supposed _to look, but I did my best.

"It's similar," Lea-Rachel whispered reassuringly, for I had given her a deer-in-headlights expression. She linked arms with me in a nurturing fashion as we headed outside with the others to pile into a van. Turns out, we were having brunch at a fancy restaurant. I had torn the page out of Us magazine and kept it with me. I peeked at the picture several times during brunch. By the end of the meal, I knew everybody's name. And if I accidentally called any of them by their "other" name, they laughed it off as though I were kidding around.

We didn't have to pay for our brunch, which was a good thing since I didn't even have Kevin's wallet. Even if it wasn't my fault that I woke up as him, I still wouldn't have felt right about charging anything to his name. After brunch, the girls were whisked away to prepare for the show while us guys hung out at the hotel. I guessed that when you're famous, it must be important to sort of stay out of sight. Exactly how famous we were, I didn't know yet.

It was still early as we piled into the limo, dressed to impress, and headed off to do press on the red carpet before the show. The guys in the cast made it outside first, and we ended up waiting on the girls, who were still putting the finishing touches on hair and makeup. When they finally came out, it looked like a success.

Amber Riley was in a dark blue dress with short sleeves. Jenna and Dianna's dresses almost matched; both girls were wearing black strapless dresses. And then there was Lea. I'd been waiting for Jenna, expecting her to take my breath away with her red carpet attire, but it was Lea's strapless red dress that did it. In my mind, Chris de Burgh was crooning "Lady in Red." Lea was absolutely stunning. Her wavy, brown hair framed her beautiful face and her luscious, red lips stood out in a way that made it impossible for me to think of her as Rachel.

The other reason that it was impossible to think of Lea as Rachel was the fact that, in terms of personality, the two couldn't be more different.

Rachel gets on my nerves, to put it nicely. I'd been basically indifferent to Rachel Berry until our first day of glee club practice together. We were working on "Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat" with me singing lead vocals. In the middle of rehearsal, she blurted out, "Mr. Schuester, do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to give the lead solo in 'Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat' to a boy in a wheelchair?" I played it off like it didn't bother me, but from that day forward, I knew she was going to irritate me 99.9% of the time.

Lea was sweet and down-to-earth. I suspected that, like Rachel, she might also little bit psychic, even though she hadn't told me that. And I wasn't just drawn to Lea because she knew my secret. She had an infectious personality and the kind of smile that was contagious.

Jenna, she was nice. But she was no Lea.

When we finally arrived, Lea leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Just be yourself out there and don't worry about it. I think Kevin must put a lot of his own personality into playing you because you aren't all that different from him."

I nodded, although being me was tough at the moment. Taking a deep breath, I climbed out of the limo and into the sea of people. I felt nothing like Artie Abrams as I walked down the red carpet, surrounded by fans yelling out, "Kevin! Artie! Glee kids, over here!" The names were interchangeable, and I quickly realized that I was going to have to answer to both tonight.

An excited reported ran up to us, snagging Chris Colfer, Amber Riley, and myself. "I'm so excited to see you guys because I'm a huge, huge fan," she gushed. "Congratulations on your nomination. How many times a day do people come up to you and say, 'Oh, my God, I love your show!"

"You know, a lot less than you might think!" Amber replied.

"Oh, speak for yourself," said Chris, flamboyantly. I couldn't help but smile at how much he was like Kurt in every way. It was like Kurt had been written for Chris. "Every five minutes! Everywhere!"

"When you signed on to do the show, did you have any idea the kind of impact it was going to have on the television landscape?" asked the reported, putting the microphone in front of me.

"Um, I don't – No, I don't think there's any way you could know that," I replied, a bit uncertainly, trying to decipher the meaning of _television landscape._ "But… we hoped. I mean, we loved the show when we started it. And it's awesome that, so far, everybody else is catching on. We're appreciative of everything."

She seemed to accept my answer and continued on, saying, "It literally is my favorite show. And how devastated was I to find out that I have to wait until spring until it comes back!"

"But it'll be worth it! It'll be worth it!" I put in, my confidence building. _Just be yourself out there,_ I could hear Lea saying in my mind.

"It will be well worth it," added Amber. "We're working hard. We need a little bit more time, you know, to give everybody a good show. We wanted to be well-rested and you guys are gonna be really excited when we come back. It's gonna be well worth the wait, trust me."

"Also, you've got the Golden Globes coming up," added the reporter. "I mean, to be here at the People's Choice and then the Golden Globes. How amazing is it to be a part of this?"

"It's incredible," Chris put in. "It's been one heck of a year for all of us. A lot of us have gone from, you know, Clovis, California, singing at cabarets, NLT – to, you know, People Choice/SAG nominees. It's great."

"So, what's gonna be the key to getting through these award shows for you, especially, as a woman in those high heels?" asked the reporter, addressing Amber. It sounded a bit like she was running out of steam.

"BBM," said Amber, quickly. "That's Blackberry Messenger. That's how I'm gonna be getting through it."

"And listening to Amber 'cause she makes a lot of good jokes," I added, as Amber laughed.

"Who are you really excited to see tonight?" (Maybe she was trying to figure out who to interview next. )"Or at the SAG awards?"

"Oh, my God," Amber began, dramatically. "Queen Latifah. Oh, my gosh, I am obsessed with her, it's weird. And I found out that her brother is, like, my neighbor. And I like, secretly go and check my door to see if she's gonna be down the hall. Don't put that on there!"

"Stalker!" I added, helpfully.

"You guys have a great time tonight," said the reporter. "Congratulations."

"Was I a total spaz?" Amber asked me, as we continued walking. I gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and told her it would be fine. Amber continued talking to Chris about the interview, but I was quiet, taking it all in.

It wasn't just the thrill of the red carpet and being photographed like I was a big deal. I was also memorizing every moment of walking around without the hassle of my wheelchair. There was no hunting for ramps tonight, no searching for the row in the theatre with the space for my wheelchair. I'd never been an ambulatory teenager before, and for me, this was even more interesting than seeing celebrities or being the famous Kevin McHale.

I also hated to have to spend so much of my time being ambulatory sitting down, once the show was finally underway. Admittedly, it was cool to be at the People's Choice Awards, but I would have rather been running or riding a bike or playing soccer outside. I wasn't sure how long I had as Kevin McHale, but something told me that Lea might know. She was sitting next to me so I decided now was a good time to ask.

"Lea," I whispered, careful not to be overheard. "How long am I going to be here? And where is Kevin McHale, exactly? Is he –"

" – In Lima, Ohio having to pretend to be you?" Lea supplied. She nodded, curtly, and said, "You might've figured it out by now, but I have something like… a sixth sense, I suppose. And that inner eye is trained on McKinley High School and my friends in glee club."

"How can this be?" I wondered. "My life is a show?"

"Few television shows have the caliber to result in an entire parallel universe," explained Lea, as though it were sensible and logical to think this way. "You don't see an entire universe dedicated to _The Secret Life of the American Teenager_, for instance, because in that instance we're talking about silly, mindless teenage smut that has absolutely no relevance in real life."

"But does this make me a... a puppet?" I went on, not knowing if I really wanted this question answered. "Is someone out there, controlling everything I do?"

"Well, _that_ is a deep, theological question," replied Lea, smiling then because I must've looked frustrated. "But I know what you're really asking, Artie. You're asking me if the show's writers and producers are dictating the events of your life. And the answer to that question is most decidedly no. You are the ones in control, Artie. Well, as much as one _can_ be in control of one's own life. But I think if you do it, it happens on the show. It's just that simple.

"That's a bit more comforting," I whispered. "But you still never said how long I'd be here."

She looked at me, seriously. "As long as it takes for you to save the back nine."

"Back… nine?"

"Yes, the back nine," she said. "The final nine episodes in the first season. Back in your world, Rachel has her own theory about why you've switched places with Kevin. She thinks that Kevin has the strongest tie to the show because he's got a background in ensemble performance, namely, his days as a member in a boy band. Aside from Kevin not being in a wheelchair and not being able to play the guitar as well as you do, you guys have a lot in common."

"Even more than Chris and Kurt?" I found that terribly hard to believe. Chris _was _Kurt.

"Chris may be gay, but he isn't nearly as glitzy as Kurt," Lea argued. "Nor can he completely relate to Kurt's family life. No, I'd say you and Kevin are more closely matched. But _I _believe that you and Kevin were the ones to switch because"Wheels" was our most highly-anticipated episode. It could've been partially due to the two-week hiatus prior to its airing, but I'd say it was _mostly_ because this was the episode in which the audience learned the most about you."

"What did they learn about me?" I asked, timidly, not sure I wanted to know.

"Until that episode, you were just the kid in the wheelchair that the audience knew nothing about," Lea went on. "You were shown with Tina a lot. It was pretty apparent that the two of you were friends, possibly leading towards being more than friends. "Wheels" was when the club had the bake sale to get you on the bus to sectionals. And that was also when you found out that Tina –"

"I think I know the rest," I interrupted, not wanting her to finish giving me the episode synopsis. It was like finding out you lived in a fish bowl.

"You don't live in a fish bowl, Artie," she said, gently.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, causing Amber and Chris to turn around in their seats and look at me. "Did- did you see the size of Carrie Underwood's engagement ring?" I covered for myself quickly. They faced forward again, and I reminded myself to keep my voice down.

"I thought you said you didn't read minds," I hissed, keeping my voice low this time.

"Rachel doesn't," she replied, with raised eyebrows. Seeing my face, she laughed. "Kidding, Artie. I only guessed that's what you were thinking because it's what _I _would be thinking. The point is that the episode featuring you was the most popular one yet. The only criticism Kevin's received is the fact that he's _not _actually disabled. Some people think a disabled actor would have been a better choice for the part."

"I don't know about that," I said, slowly. "I think it should just be the person who deserves the part the most, disabled or not. I don't like _my _disability putting me at a disadvantage, but at the same time, I don't think it should give a person an advantage either."

She smiled. "To conclude my rather long and drawn out theory," she said, and I braced myself for the worst. "Kevin is in Lima, Ohio to gain a better understanding of you, Artie. Artie is the key to making the back nine episodes a success. The more we feature Artie, the better our ratings become. But Kevin needs to do this right or else we have the disabled community up in arms. In due time, you will be back in Lima. And he'll be back with us."

I was about to fire off another question, but I was interrupted by Matt from _Heroes. _"We are also presenting the award for Favorite New TV Comedy," he announced. "The Winner, Your Choice for Favorite New TV Comedy – Glee!"

It caught me off-guard, and I nearly forgot that we were going onstage now. _We won! _I hadn't even listened to the list of shows that we'd just beaten out. Who would ever believe it, a show about New Directions and Lima! I ended up sort of escorting Lea to the stage with Mark holding on to her other arm. We all filed on the stage a bit awkwardly, obviously new at this whole business of accepting awards.

"Um, we have to thank all of you, our amazing creators, our amazing writers, our producers, and our fantastic crew. Thank you," said Chris, eloquently, as though he'd done this before.

"We have so much fun working on our show," added Lea, jumping in front of the mike. "So thank you all for watching. It's just – we thank you all very much!" said Lea.

"Seriously, this has been an amazing night for us. And we wanted to do something special for you guys to say thanks," said Amber, and I knew she was on the verge of rolling her eyes over the awful Digiorno product placement we'd been asked to do if we won.

"So…" I began, nervously. "There's no better way to say thank you than a little food. So we might have gotten all of you a little pizza. Fatten you guys up. Bring out the pizza, come on!"

"Cheesy," said Chris, under his breath, and I knew he wasn't just talking about the pizza. I grinned, not even caring that it was stupid or that the pizza gimmick had stolen our thunder. We _won!_


	6. An Existential Crisis

Author's Note: Not terribly enthusiastic about Lea/Artie? ;-) Okay, I heard that.

I _do_ intend to go easy on the chapters about the actors for fear that this website will give me the boot over violating terms of service or something. I've also added a disclaimer in chapter five after one reader made this suggestion. I always dismiss disclaimers as being silly or unneccessary, but it appears I was wrong in this case.

**Disclaimer, Part Two: I in NO WAY mean to seriously criticize Kevin's portrayl of Artie. I think he's amazing.**

Spoilers: Just one, about a future guest star. Not plot related. I don't really know any plot spoilers.

Claimer(?): I also use my invented Abrams family in the livejournal roleplay game, crunk_club, where I play Artie.

* * *

_Kevin_

I had to leave the diner and go home sooner or later, or rather, had to go to _Artie's_ home. Tina gave me a lift in her trusty Buick, which was a lot more complicated than it sounded. She insisted that she and Artie had done this numerous times before. Usually, she said, Artie was able to get into her car all by himself. It must have taken him lots of therapy and practice to learn to do that.

"OW!" I'd relied on Tina to tilt the wheelchair slightly, essentially dumping my body into the passenger seat. As we performed this complicated maneuver, I managed to hit my head on the top of the car. I closed my eyes and rubbed the spot on my head, already realizing that I was going to have a goose egg in the morning. When I opened them again, Tina was hovering over me, looking undecided between feelings of concern and amusement.

"How does he do it?" I wondered, wincing. The corners of her mouth twitched. "Don't. laugh."

She snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry," she said, giggling behind her hand. "Kevin, honestly, how do you expect to fool Artie's family if you can't even get into my car properly? I think we might have a problem here. Do you realize what this means? Artie definitely doesn't spend all of his time at home in this chair. In fact, he's hardly ever in it. If you sit in that wheelchair all evening, it's gonna look strange to them."

"Good to know," I said, sarcastically. "But I think I'll have no trouble fooling them seeing as I look like Artie and sound like Artie. Who else _would_ I be? I can always just say I'm tired. It was a long day. Lots of steep ramps. I'll think of something."

"This reminds me of when we all had to spend three hours a day in a wheelchair," she mused. "It was really, really difficult for me. I kept catching the doorframe when I tried to go in and out of rooms. And there were lots of tight spaces that made it hard to get around. Ramps were terrible, too. You ought to try the same thing, you know..."

"I'll have you know I've spent plenty of time practicing in the wheelchair," I said, a bit defensively.

"And yet, you don't know how to _transfer_ in and out of that wheelchair," she pointed out, shaking her head sadly.

Before I could come up with some sort of comeback for that, Tina shut my door and made her way around to the driver's seat. I didn't say anything as she started the car and backed out of the parking space. I remained silent, alone with my thoughts. I was thinking about Artie. Was she right? Was I doing him a disservice by not looking into every aspect of his life? Tina was driving now, but I wondered why Artie still wasn't. Weren't there hand controls or special cars out there for people in wheelchairs? It could be worth addressing this on the show. Artie learning to drive might make for a cool episode. We'd need a song...

_"Get outta my dreams," _I began singing, inspired. _"Get into my car..."_

Tina laughed and switched on her iPod, which was connected to the car steoreo by a tape adapter. She just so happened to have this Billy Ocean eighties hit on her playlist and we sang it together. By the time the song ended, we were pulling into the drive of a very ordinary looking house. I was feeling consideraly less moody.

"Abrams' residence," announced Tina, putting her car in park. "Sure you wanna do this?"

"Do I really have a choice?" I wondered.

"Well, you don't really have to do it on your own," she said, casually. "Artie's mother wouldn't bat an eye if I came over to work on homework. Artie always tutors me in Spanish and math. But you don't have to do that. We can just hang out. Artie and I do that, too."

"You're going to help me fool his family?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Funny, I wasn't under the impression that you liked me much, Tina Cohen-Chang."

"No, no, I like you," she disagreed. "Oh, don't look so surprised! You're alright, Kevin."

She gave me a reassuring smile, and I was quite glad that the non-psychic who knew my secret wasn't holding a grudge against me afterall. She got out to unload the wheelchair, which was stored securely in the Buick's trunk. As she brought it around, I mentally prepared myself for the next transfer from seat to wheelchair. If I thought this was difficult, how much harder would it be to get up off the floor and into the chair?

Using all of my strength, I pushed on my arms and lifted my body into the wheelchair. As I did this, I let out a groan. It was all I could do not to lose my balance, but I managed to make it safely into the wheelchair without Tina's help this time. As I arranged my feet in the rests, Tina was laughing again.

"Don't let Artie's parents hear you groaning like that," she adviced me. "Artie makes that look easy, but you sounded like you were passing kidney stones."

"Tina!" I admonished her, turning a deep shade of red.

"Okay, I won't say anything else," she promised, as she grabbed the handles of my chair and began pushing me towards the front door of the Abrams' home. As she did so, she leaned closer to my ear and said, "I'm usually the only person who pushes his chair. Normally, I don't think he likes being pushed, but he says that I'm the exception to the rule."

_What's stopping these two from getting together? _I wondered. Tina knew practically everything about Artie. I suspected he knew everything about her, too. Who knew how long the two had been friends? (Some details about their first meeting would be a nice addition to the show, I mentally noted.)

"We're ho-ome!" Tina called out, as she pushed me through the door, in a way that made it sound like she lived there, too. Presumably, Artie's family and Tina were on good terms. Tina had a rough exterior, what with all the black clothing and dark makeup, but something told me that the Abrams weren't the sort of people to look at a person's outside appearance.

"Just in time for cookies!" called a woman's voice. "I'm taking them out of the oven right now. And _Deal or No Deal_'s coming on. It's a new one. Want to join us in the living room?"

Tina giggled. "Sure," she said. She continued pushing my chair, leaning over again to say, "The Abrams are hilarious when they watch this show. I have no idea why they like it." _Interesting, _I thought, musing over how everything seemed to be the same in this universe, except for the fact that there was no show called _Glee._

"Do you think they'd want to watch the People's Choice Awards instead?" I wondered, dying to know what would happen if Glee didn't exist to take the award. What would win in its place? But Tina made a face and shook her head. "No, sorry, but that sounds really boring. Besides, what do you expect to see? Artie onstage with the rest of them, accepting your award? Not happening. The show doesn't exist. _You _probably don't even exist."

"You think _I _don't exist?" I replied, aghast. "What about... Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel? Do they exist?"

"From _Wicked_? Yes, they exist. Why wouldn't they?"

She parked my wheelchair beside a very comfortable looking couch and gestured for me to have a seat, the grin spreading across her face again. I used my arms to raise myself out of the chair and attempted to move to the couch. But I had forgotten one crucial step - the break. As my chair rolled out from under me, I went _SMACK!_ It looked like I would get a chance to figure out how to get up off the floor afterall.

"Stop that!" I commanded Tina, who joined me on the floor, doubled over in laughter. I was just lucky that the living room had been empty at the time. If the Abrams had seen that, there was no telling what they would think of their son. Tina obliged to stop laughing, for it seemed that she also realized we needed to keep quiet about my clumsy moment. It was actually not that difficult to get from floor to couch without my legs, thankfully, and I did so very quickly.

Tina joined me on the couch, saying again, "As I was saying, why wouldn't the lead actresses from _Wicked_ exist?"

"Because Idina Menzel is going to be on a future episode of _Glee,_" I explained, not know if my saying this was going to cause the universe to implode or something. "And Kristin Chenoweth was already on the show. You would know her as April Rhodes, Mr. Schuester's former classmate."

Tina giggled. "April Rhodes and Kristen Chenoweth look _nothing _alike, Ar - I mean, Kevin."

I shrugged. "If you say so."

"Anyway," said Tina, dismissively, "Listen up because they're all going to be coming in any minute. This is your crash course on Artie's family. His parents are happily married. Their names are Arthur and Charlotte, but naturally, you call them Mom and Dad. Artie's parents are incredible. I like his sister, too. Her name's Amy, she's a college senior at Ohio State, she plays soccer on the school team, and I'm pretty sure she's still home on holiday break for the rest of this week. Artie and his sister are really close. Got it?"

"Got it," I said, but I was already looking around, taking in the details of the Abrams' living room. Something that caught my attention were the framed photos of the kids. Amy hadn't always been the family's only athlete, it seemed. She was shown in her soccer uniform, posing with her high school team. But beside that photo was another one - a photo of a boys' team. I could pick out Artie easily. He looked exactly like me as a child. _Artie on a soccer team,_ I thought, wistfully, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was easy to forget that he hadn't always been the kid in the wheelchair.

"You okay?" Tina knudged me as I stared, and it seemed she knew what I was thinking just by the expression on my face. "I know," she whispered, nodding to the picture I was looking it. "Kind of puts it all in perspective, what he's dealing with every day, doesn't it? When you really _see _what he's missing out on. Amy once told me Artie was a better player than her back then."

"Wow," I breathed. "I - I play the guy, but I had no idea."

"Does it change things?"

"Absolutely," I replied.

"Cookies are ready!" sang Charlotte Abrams, coming into the room with a plate of cookies in one hand and a carton of milk in the other. Part of me expected Artie's mother to look just like my mother, but she didn't. Artie's father followed closely behind her, carrying cups, plates, and napkins. He didn't look like my dad, either. Yet when you compared the three of us, we looked like a family. About that time, Amy came in from the opposite hall. She had long, brown hair which was pulled into a ponytail and blue eyes framed by a pair of glasses.

"You brought Tina over!" Amy acknowledged the younger girl immediately, giving her a friendly hug. "I'm so glad, Tee, I was worried I wouldn't see you before it was time for me to go back to school again. I leave this weekend, but I'm so not ready to go back yet..."

I could tell right away that this was a close knit family, based on the way they all piled in front of the TV together. Throughout the show, there was constant chatter from all sides.

"... Glee club's working on a new number... "

"... have to try out this new recipe. Maybe for dinner tomorrow night?"

"... all upper level classes and no more electives. I'm so freaking depressed..."

"You okay, hon?" Artie's mother asked me. "You seem kind of subdued tonight."

"Just... just taking it all in," I answered, honestly.

She smiled at me. "I know. It'll be so quiet around here when your sister goes back to school."

Artie was a lucky kid, to have such a supportive family. It made sense why he would be so happy and resilient, in spite of difficult circumstances. It made me feel so honored to represent him, to tell his story. There was so much more to Artie than meets the eye. I could see Tina watching me again, and I knew she knew what I was thinking. (Maybe she was even more psychic than Rachel.)

When Tina was absolutely convinced that I could pass myself as Artie without serious problems, she finally left. I excused myself to Artie's bedroom early, for I wondered how long it would take me to get through Artie's bedtime routine. I decided it was best to do the shower at night, while I was still conscious enough to manage the wheelchair-to-shower transfer.

By the time I finally wheeled myself into Artie's bedroom, it really was time for bed. I managed getting from the wheelchair to the bed, remembering to first set the break on the chair this time. Artie's laptop was sitting on his bedside table. The conversation we'd had about Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel had gotten me thinking. I pulled up the Internet Movie Database website and typed in my name.

Kevin McHale - Forward for Boston Celtics (1980-93).

And that was the only entry that appeared, confirming what I had suspected all along: In this world, I didn't exist. I lay back on Artie's pillows, getting lost in thought. I didn't really mind not existing in this world. It would be weird for Artie to run into his identical twin. I couldn't quite fathom why Kristen Chenoweth managed to exist alongside April Rhodes, but maybe it had something to do with April being such a minor character.

All of my thoughts about myself took me back to the People's Choice Awards. _Did the people choose us, Artie? _I asked, in vain desperation. _Did we win? _Win or lose, I knew Artie would be having the time of his life.

_Yes,_ he answered me. _Glee won. We went onstage to accept and everything. We even got to give the audience pizza._

_What? _I replied, puzzled over two things. One, _pizza_? And two, Artie was reading my mind. I seemed to be reading his as well. Until now, this was the first I'd heard from him. But after all that had happened today, I wasn't terribly surprised.

_The pizza was just a dumb gimmick__ for the show, _Artie explained. _Nice to meet you, Mr. McHale._

_Nice to meet you, _I replied. _Please call me Kevin. I just met your family. They're really great, Artie. _

_How's Tina doing? _Artie wanted to know. _Can you tell her I miss her? Tell her not to worry about me._

I smiled. _You'll probably be back soon enough. Aren't you excited to tell her all about the People's Choice Awards?_

_And about being famous, yeah,_ Artie added. _I wish she could've been here, too._

_Artie, I know you probably get sick of hearing this, _I said. _But I really admire you, dude._

There was a pause. _You're right. I do get sick of hearing that, but thanks, _he said. _Learned enough about me to go back to your world yet? Lea said that was part of it. She's a little bit psychic, did you know? She and Rachel both. And all this time, I thought Rachel Berry was just saying that to get attention._

I laughed out loud, thankful that Artie didn't share a room with anyone. _I've learned a lot about you, Artie. There were so many things I never even considered about you. I'll be sure and take it back with me when I go home, whenever that may be._

Another pause. _I'm not quite ready to get back in my chair... but I really need to see Tina again. Even if it meant that I got to walk again, I wouldn't like living in a world where she didn't exist. If you see Rachel, please tell her I want to go home soon. And I'll tell Lea. Maybe they know how to make it happen._

I sucked in a deep breath, overwhelmed by what he was telling me. _Okay, Artie,_ I agreed. _I'll talk to her, I promise. I want to go home, too. We start filming the back nine tomorrow. I think I need to be there, you know?_

_Definitely, _Artie answered. _I'm not an actor._

_You'd be playing yourself, dude!_

_Still._

I laughed again. _I think you're going home, soon. Goodnight, Artie._

_Goodnight, not Artie._


	7. Weird Wednesday

Author's Note: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! You're all too kind. To the person who asked me to write more about the actors and to mention Mark/Dianna... while that _is _a fun idea and all, I do agree somewhat with another reviewer who stated that they didn't like fanfiction about real people. (However, Mark/Dianna shipper... I indulged you just a bit.) While writing this story, I've tried to limit the number of assumptions about the cast and their personal lives'. So, that being said, there won't be much more about the cast in this story. Well, you'll see. Happy Reading!

Author's Note: I totally hope the reference is okay with you, Artemis. :-) You'll see what I mean in a second...

* * *

_Tina_

I barely slept on Wednesday night, and when I did, I dreamed of Artie. In my dream, Artie was having the time of his life, singing and playing his guitar onstage at what looked like a crowded karaoke bar. Puck, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel, and I were there, too, cheering in the audience. Finn sang the song with Artie and shook a tambourine, but it was Artie who really stole the show. The crowd sang along with Artie and Finn as they belted out that Proclaimers' classic...

_But I would walk 500 miles  
And I would walk 500 more  
Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles  
To fall down at your door  
_

I woke up, giggling in delight. Artie had been watching me the whole time with a silly expression on his face as he picked up his feet and marched. I would have been amazed to see Artie standing upright, effortlessly moving his legs in time with the music, but this was a dream. I decided that I was dreaming in the _middle _of the dream itself, and in my dreams, I call the shots. Why shouldn't Artie be walking in my dream?

It wasn't until my alarm sounded on Thursday morning, jolting me out of the perfect dream, that I'd remembered Artie and Kevin McHale and _Glee _and Rachel. I couldn't help but wonder about my dream. I remembered telling Kevin how much I wanted to be there, to see Artie parading around as the award-winning actor, having the time of his life. Had my dream been a dream or something more? Had I been given a glimpse? Another good question for Rachel, I supposed.

Kevin was supposed to meet me in the choir room first thing in the morning so that we could go over Artie's schedule together. He and I shared most of the same classes, but there were a few variations, including first period. Artie had gym class, which really meant that the adapted P.E. teacher came once a week, and the rest of the time, Artie got a free study period. I was interested to find out how Kevin had managed the rest of the evening. How many times had he fallen out of Artie's wheelchair? I pictured it and couldn't keep from smirking to myself, imaging Kevin's adventure as an amateur cripple. I would have great stories to tell Artie, if I ever saw him again.

_If I ever saw him again... _What if the switch had been permanent and I was now stuck with Kevin McHale forever? I didn't know how I could handle living in a world without Artie in it. It was already the best part of my day, arriving to my second period Spanish class and passing notes with Artie. Mr. Schuester had seen us multiple times, but always looked the other way, smiling and pretending he didn't have a clue. Of course, it stung me bitterly to imagine that Artie just _might _be happier with Kevin's life. _Of course he's happier, _I thought, imagining my dream. _He's a famous actor who can walk. What's not to love?_

"I got your text message that said to meet you here," said Kevin, finally wheeling himself into the room. He grinned and I was struck by how much his smile resembled Artie's. "I'm not sure it was meant for me, though. It said, 'Hope you didn't break his wheelchair. Meet me in the choir room at 7:30.'" He pretended to examine the chair. "Looks okay to me. Smells a little weird, but otherwise returned to me in good condition..."

It took me a minute to process what he was saying. Then I got up from my seat on the piano bench and ran to him, jumping into his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck, not caring that I was being a bit dramatic. "Artie, Artie, Artie!" I cried, happily. "You're back! Welcome home! Oh, my gosh! I've been so worried."

"Worried, why?" he grinned, slyly, as he untangled me from his neck. "Space, Tee. I need to breathe so I can tell you my story. You're going to want to hear it because it's a good one. You didn't need to worry. Didn't you and Kevin figure out that I'd be in his world? That's how it always works in the movies. You act like you never saw _Freaky Friday _before. This one was more like _Weird Wednesday_, I guess."

"I had a pretty weird day myself," I said, with a laugh. "Hanging out with Kevin McHale, the famous actor. Actually, he was really sweet and much more down to earth than I'd expect a famous guy to be. I was probably too hard on him. He complained about being in your chair, and I jumped all over the poor guy's case about it. I was so upset about you being gone, and I took it out on Kevin. But that's just it, you were _gone!_"

"Yeah, gone to the friggin' People's Choice Awards," he supplied, proudly. "I got up on stage and thanked people and everything. I thought about thanking the Academy as a joke, but I think show biz people can be a bit touchy, you know? So we just gave the audience pizza. That's, um, a long story. The weirdest thing, though, had to be waking up in a hotel room with Puck. Oh, wait, no, the weirdest thing was waking up with feeling in my legs."

I bit my lip. "Yeah, that had to be weird." _And probably wonderful, too. How hard was it for you to wake up paralyzed again?_

"Puck wasn't Puck, of course," Artie went on, skimming over the part about walking much to quickly for me to believe it was as insignificant as he wanted me to think. "His name was Mark Salling, and he was much easier to talk to than Puck. He and Puck _do _have one thing in common, though. They both like Quinn. Or rather, Mark likes Dianna. It was so obvious, how he flirted with her all night. They don't have a teen pregnancy to deal with so they're a lot happier. I think Mark and Kevin must have chosen to room together for the awards show. Mark and I - I mean, Kevin - we hang out together in Texas sometimes. Lea told me that. Lea, that's Rachel's actress. She and Rachel are both, like, psychic. Sounds unbelievable, but what part of this whole thing _is _believable? Lea was the one who told me about that, which is good because otherwise, I would have been scared to death."

I nodded. "Can I ask you, Artie?" I began, nervously playing with my blue streak of hair as I interrupted his rambling story by bringing up the elephant in the room. "What was it like? Not the award show or being famous or hanging out with a nicer version of Puck. I mean, um, walking for the first time in eight years. You're used to all the difficulty you encounter with the wheelchair by now, but what was it like being free of the chair for awhile? I'd love to hear about _that._"

"Well, it was great, obviously," said Artie, hesistating in a way that made me think he was going to leave it at that. I worried that I'd gone too far by asking that question, but he seemed to collect his thoughts before speaking again. "I felt like nothing had ever happened to me. It was so easy and so _natural _to just go back to doing everything the normal way. I stopped thinking about mobility altogether, which freed my mind up to think about other things. I had an easier time making jokes and kidding around. I was... well, comfortable in my own skin would be the best way to put it."

"I think you make pretty good jokes even when you _are_ having to think about mobility," I said, reaching for his hand. I only meant to give it a little squeeze and take my hand back, but he held on to it and beamed at me, which showed me that my gesture said a lot. I scooted the piano bench closer to his chair and stroked his fingers gently. "Still, I am sorry that you can't have the best of both worlds."

"Don't start singing Miley Cyrus songs," Artie threatened, making me giggle. "But, seriously, I'm sorry I can't have the best of both worlds, too. It's a lot to lose."

"I'm just sorry you had to lose it all over again."

"Lose it all over again?" Artie gave me a strange look. "Tina, I'm not talking about what you think I'm talking about. I really can deal with being back in my wheelchair. I meant that what we have, our awesome friendship, _that's _a lot to lose. You, Tina. You're the best thing in my world, and being in a world without you was awful. You're a lot to lose."

I was momentarily speechless, and Artie laughed at that.

"What do you think happens next?" I whispered. "I feel a bit like a... like a..."

"Puppet?" Artie finished my sentence and I nodded. "I asked Lea - you know, the Seer - the same thing. She said it works the other way around. We control it. If we make it happen in our world, the show makes it happen in theirs. So, really, if you want show spoilers, I haven't got any. It's all up to us, whatever we decided to do."

"And... what if I decided to do... " I got off the piano bench and leaned over him, planting a kiss right on his lips. As I drew back, I watched him give me that small, crooked smile that looked exactly the same way it had the last time I'd surprised him with a kiss. (I could only hope that it was going to be better this time.) "... that?" I sat back down, proud of myself.

"Then..." Oh, joy, he was flustered. "Then I would have to refer you to several works of fanfiction I was able to read before bed last night. They've already got us all worked out. You'd be amazed at some of these crazy-yet-awesome ideas floating around out there. There's even something out there about me playing Dance Dance Revolution with my hands, which sounds like a wickedly fun idea."

"Sounds fun to me," I agreed. "Honestly, _fan_fiction? Just when I thought my life couldn't get any stranger."

"Oh, come on, Tee," he grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I know you secretly _write _fanfiction. I just can't remember if it was _Gilmore Girls _or _Gossip Girl. _Remember when I found that story saved on your laptop that one time, titled S_panish Notes?_"

"Artie!" I frantically checked the halls to make sure no one had stopped at the doorway to listen. "I told you never to mention that! _Especially_ not in public places where people might hear you."

"_Fan_fiction," he said, again, still grinning as he ignored my pleas. "Way to get your nerd on, Tee."

I rolled up the piece of sheet music that had been sitting on the piano and hit him over the head with it, rising from the piano bench indignantly. "Go to class, Artie," I said, hitting him a few more times. "Or I have a feeling this little show may not have a happy ending for you and I after all."

"Spoiler alert," said Artie. "I disagree."

Artie's little out of body experience was never mentioned again, even though we both knew Rachel was dying for us to acknowledge her sixth sense. Artie was kind of worried the universe might implode, and I had to agree that it seemed like a distinct possibly. Still, he and I both wondered about Kevin McHale and the rest of the cast. Artie and Kevin lost touch after that one day in each other's lives. Artie explained to me later how there had been a brief period of time in which he and Kevin had been able to communicate telepathically. (Hey, in a world with psychic primadonnas and parallel universes, why not?) But both Artie and I had a feeling that the "back nine" episodes were pretty much guaranteed to be a hit.

And _we_ were the Gleeks that made it happen.

* * *

(The End!)


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